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Anticlimax
Jan. 11th, 2016 06:03 pmWe spent the afternoon at Sunderland Eye Infirmary, mostly waiting ("Haven't we waited long enough? / Haven't we waited beautifully?" asked Julia Darling).
Because the appointment had been initiated by my optician and confirmed online, I wasn't sure whether I was waiting to be assessed for laser treatment to clear the cloudy membrane which is blurring the vision in my left eye, or for the treatment itself. On the one hand, what was there to assess? On the other, surely they wouldn't go ahead without having seen for themselves? And no, of course, they wouldn't. The doctor asked me all the usual questions, and shone bright lights in my eyes (this is the bit I really hate) and then told me precisely what the optician had told me two months ago.
So now I am on the waiting list.
We drove home from Sunderland in the twilight. Quarter past four and not dark yet doesn't seem much to be grateful for, but the mornings are still dark, and getting colder, so it's good to be reminded that the days are getting longer. The sky was streaked with pink clouds, until we descended into a bowl of mist and darkness at Houghton-le-Spring.
Because the appointment had been initiated by my optician and confirmed online, I wasn't sure whether I was waiting to be assessed for laser treatment to clear the cloudy membrane which is blurring the vision in my left eye, or for the treatment itself. On the one hand, what was there to assess? On the other, surely they wouldn't go ahead without having seen for themselves? And no, of course, they wouldn't. The doctor asked me all the usual questions, and shone bright lights in my eyes (this is the bit I really hate) and then told me precisely what the optician had told me two months ago.
So now I am on the waiting list.
We drove home from Sunderland in the twilight. Quarter past four and not dark yet doesn't seem much to be grateful for, but the mornings are still dark, and getting colder, so it's good to be reminded that the days are getting longer. The sky was streaked with pink clouds, until we descended into a bowl of mist and darkness at Houghton-le-Spring.
